


Hair Triggers and White Knuckle Dreams

by Ace_Valentin_21



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Jealous Steve Rogers, Jealousy, M/M, Mild Angst, Mutual Pining, Possessive Steve Rogers, Sharing beds, Spooning, but barely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 13:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16220471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace_Valentin_21/pseuds/Ace_Valentin_21
Summary: Stephen Strange knew exactly what he was doing when the he left the Avengers’ shared room one bed short.(Or, Tony volunteers to share a bed. Steve isn’t too happy about that.)





	Hair Triggers and White Knuckle Dreams

Steve couldn’t understand why he felt so... jealous.

The Avengers were staying at the London Sanctum as a favour to Stephen Strange, guarding against a prospective attack, but the room they were staying in was one bed short. Sleeping on the floor, taking shifts and top-and-tailing had all been rejected, but Tony had stepped up and offered to share with someone. 

At that proposal, Steve feels like a storm is brewing inside his stomach; he imagines Tony wrapping his arms around Natasha, tucked into Thor’s bulk, chest against Bruce’s back...

Steve Rogers does not share.

At least, that’s what he is telling himself, clinging to the words like a mantra, as Tony jokes and laughs with the other Avengers about who he should share with-

Steve Rogers does not share.

He feels his jaw clenching as Thor volunteers to share a bed with Tony, sleep under the same sheets as Tony, lie only inches away from Tony-

Steve Rogers does not share.

He forces himself to look away as Tony climbs into the bed and pats the spot next to him suggestively, as Thor laughs and moves to join him-

“I’ll share.” Steve is practically growling, and his tone makes it perfectly clear that what he says is final. The room suddenly feels charged, as though the storm in his stomach had laced his words with lightning.

Tony looks taken aback by his proclamation, head snapping up and sitting taller on the bed.

“Why the sudden change of heart, Steve? You didn’t seem very interested in sharing before,” Tony asks, and Steve knows him well enough to tell that he genuinely wants an answer. The electricity in the air only grows with each second Steve stalls 

Because I thought it would make you uncomfortable. Because I thought I wouldn’t be able to resist you if we were that close. Because I didn’t want to ruin what we have. Because I couldn’t take the thought of you lying next to someone else. Because Steve Rogers does not share.

“I’m the leader. I should be stepping up when there’s a decision to be made. I just left it a bit late.” He feels bad lying to Tony. His nails bite into his palms as his hands clasp behind him. The blurred lights of Hong Kong leave the room awash in blue and yellow, and Steve thinks that Tony, lit from the side by the glow, has never looked so beautiful.

The other man shrugs, and the tension dissolves - mostly. Steve still feels like each word exchanged between the two of them is an exposed live wire, and the sparks are bound to catch.

“Sorry, Thor, but it looks like the good Captain is taking your place,” Tony says, without a hint of real remorse. Steve trains his eyes on the wall as he addresses the team.  
“Everyone to bed. Now.”

Steve Rogers does not share. 

He moves towards his shared bed, allowing himself to relax. The soft, colourful light is calming, and Steve is sure the ordeal is over.

He chokes on his thoughts.

“What are you doing?” he finally asks, quickly averting his eyes. The storm is back - in a completely different way - and he can feel his cheeks beginning to colour.

Tony laughs, and the sound draws Steve’s eyes back to him. “I’m getting changed, Steve. Did you seriously expect me to sleep in a suit?” 

Steve wants to make a snarky reply, but all he can come up with is a strangled groan, charged with all the lightning from his stomach. Tony is stretched out on the bed, tan skin on display, wearing nothing but boxers. Steve knew the man was fit, but he had no idea he was so... toned. Tony folds his arms behind his head, grinning up at Steve. 

Steve finally realises that he’s been checking Tony out for a solid ten seconds. 

“No, I was just - just taken by surprise, that’s all. It’s a long day, I’m tired, and you were stripping,” Steve says, praying that Tony doesn’t notice the effect that he’s having on him. 

Steve is already in sweats and a T-shirt, so he doesn’t feel the need to change - that, and he would absolutely not be able to cope with being so close to Tony if neither of them had a layer between them.

He tentatively climbs into the bed, rolling onto his back as he adjusts the sheets around him. 

Tony clears his throat and Steve starts, looking over at him. “Actually, I prefer the right side of the bed. Would you mind switching?” 

Without waiting for an answer, Tony places a hand on each of Steve’s shoulders and pushes himself up, so his body is parallel to Steve’s. The soft lighting casts his face into sharp relief, and Steve wishes that the predicted attackers would bust into the room and get him out of this mess. Tony nudges Steve a little the the left and he gets the hint, rolling towards the wall. Tony settles down with his back facing Steve. Steve tries to lie down on his back, but he’s sandwiched between Tony and the wall, and his wide shoulders are taking up too much of the limited space on the bed.

For the first time in his life, Steve curses the serum.

He could easily face the wall, his back to Tony and all his miles of tanned skin - or he could face him, watch his back muscles ripple as he adjusts his position, sleep with his best friend pressed up against his chest...

If he’s going to do this, he might as well enjoy it.

He rolls over to face Tony, closes his eyes and tries to ignore the tempting warmth of the man beside him. 

“‘Night team,” Steve proclaims, shifting his body to be closer to - more comfortable. He hears a chorus of “goodnight”s as Clint reaches up to switch off the light.

“G’night, Steve,” Tony murmurs, turning his head to look over his shoulder at Steve.

“Goodnight, Tony,” Steve replies softly, settling down into the pillow, and finally letting sleep take him.

— — — 

This was the first time in ages that Tony had slept peacefully.

The thought crosses his mind as soon as he wakes. He’s no stranger to nightmares; almost every night he wakes in a cold sweat, sometimes writhing, sometimes sobbing, sometimes screaming. His room is impeccably soundproofed.

This must have been the first time since - New York? Afghanistan? He thinks groggily, barely registering that it’s the middle of the night. He can’t remember when they started, or when they last stopped.

He feels... strange. In a good way. He feels like he’d had boots made of lead stuck to his feet for the past few years, and suddenly, someone has taken them off. It feels liberating. Like flying without the suit, he muses. He wishes it had happened sooner. 

He props his elbow underneath him and moves to get up - or to roll over, or maybe get water, he’s too tired to remember which - when a strong arm around his waist pulls him back down. He lands with a slight thud on the mattress, and all of a sudden he’s resting against something firm and warm and -

Steve. 

The events of the night before come flooding back to him - guarding the Sanctum, not enough beds, Steve offering to share with Tony... but he doesn’t remember anything about spooning. 

He feels a warm pressure on his neck, and a tickling sensation around his jaw. Steve is nestling his face into the crook of Tony’s neck, still fast asleep.

Tony’s wide awake now.

Every cell in his body tingles as Steve exhales deeply into his collarbone, lips brushing the sensitive skin of his neck. Tony shivers, and Steve draws his arm tighter around Tony’s waist. 

Tony loves every second of it.

When the Captain had stated - commanded - that he be the one to sleep with Tony, voice veined with steel and arms folded to give Tony a delicious view of his biceps, he hadn’t known how to react. He wasn’t sure if it was an expression of real, romantic interest in him, or just the other man fulfilling his duties as team leader, but whatever it was, Tony wasn’t complaining. 

When he had stripped down in front of Steve and watched him blush like a teenager, he still couldn’t be sure if it was Steve’s old-timer sensibilities or... something else; but this - this was a confirmation of everything he had suspected.

This has to be it. Tony thinks. This is the factor that affected his dreams. Steve’s presence, proximity, touch, they had made him feel so at home, so peaceful, that nightmares hadn’t bothered him. 

This shows... this shows he was always meant to be Steve’s. 

Tony grins, letting himself be consumed by the ridiculous joy he feels at the mere thought.

Steve Rogers doesn’t share. 

And Tony is more than okay with that.


End file.
